Well, after two weeks in Cambodia, here are Tien’s Rules for Surviving Cambodia:

(1) Moto drivers are *not* hitting on you. 1/3 of their approaches will be stylistically indistinguishable from Western come-ons, but honestly, they just want you to hire them, and are of the mistaken opinion that following you for half a block or murmuring seductively while circling you on their moto is the best way of convincing you to do so.

Really, they’re harmless. Incredibly annoying, but harmless.

(2) Moto drivers have NO sense of direction. They also don’t know the town, despite being taxi drivers by profession. Don’t assume he knows where even the biggest tourist attraction is (even if he’s nodding); look at his face to see if he *really* understands.

If you wind up in the middle of nowhere with a moto driver who obviously hasn’t a clue (this seems to happen about 50% of the time, even with precautions), tell him to stop, pay him off, and flag down another moto driver. Eventually you *will* get a guy with a clue…and at 50 cents a pop, you can afford to go through two or three before getting to your destination. Don’t panic; the world is full of motos, and in daylight, you’re safe–the muggers only really come out at night.

(3) Ignoring someone in Cambodia isn’t rude; just a sign that you aren’t interested. Meeting someone’s eyes–or any sign other than blank disinterest–means you’re a potential customer, in which case you’ll NEVER get rid of them.

Failing to observe this rule scrupulously will result in endless harassment by moto drivers, who will fall on you instantly at the slightest sign of interest. (This also applies to amputee beggars.)

(4) Don’t bother with friendly conversation with vendors/moto drivers. They’re just trying to get you off your guard. Other service providers, etc. are fine.

(5) Don’t get fazed when even a decent hotel mysteriously turns off your electricity, removes the toilet paper from your bathroom, etc. This is Cambodia, after all.

In general, while I think the Cambodians have done a phenomenal job of rebuilding their country from the rubble left over from the Khmer Rouge and subsequent Vietnamese invasion, I’m not particularly fond of Cambodia. Phnom Penh isn’t very interesting–the only real gem in the area is the National Museum, which has stunning artifacts from the Khmer Empire. Unfortunately, I’m pretty much deaf to both history and art, and sculpture isn’t one of my crafts, so it didn’t do much for me…if I hadn’t been sick for the last week, I’d have gone to Saigon by now.

I also went to the Tuol Sleng (Holocaust) Museum; but I’ll talk more about that later. I found it underwhelming, but I think that was because I initially found it overwhelming, and simply shut down.

Moving on: in a nice compromise between bus (slow, grueling) and plane (fast, expensive), I’ve discovered that you can get to the Vietnamese border by boat! and, better yet, the boat leaves at a decent hour in the afternoon, so I’m forfeiting my 6am bus ticket to catch the afternoon boat to the border, and will catch a pickup-taxi from the border to Saigon. This cuts a 10-hour grueling bus ride down to about a 3-4 hour journey by boat and taxi (the Vietnamese pave their roads–fancy that!).

I’m a little nervous about finding a taxi on the other side, and finding a guesthouse in Saigon, but I know (intellectually) that that’s absurd; I’ll be met by 10,000 hotel touts and about 4,000 taxis at the border.

To Saigon tomorrow!

Tien

..umm, there *may* be some in Cambodia, but if so I haven’t noticed them yet.

Today, after five hours in an Internet cafe uploading my Website (I said it had a *faster* connection…I didn’t say it was *fast*!), I decided to go see the Royal Palace, in hopes of getting a glimpse of the Silver Pagoda.

So I walked out of the hotel and summoned one of the circling buzzards, er, I mean moto drivers. I did avoid the ones directly in front of the hotel (six or seven of them perch nonchalantly on a sidewalk over the savannah, waiting for the kites that indicate a dying, no, I mean emerging tourist), on the general principle that someone who’s been waiting an hour or so to pounce on you is going to want to extract extra blood for their trouble. In other words, as in Bangkok, never get into an idle taxi.

But, as it turns out, this did me no good at all. The fellow I flagged down and paid $1 to take me to the Royal Palace actually dropped me off on a completely gratuitous street somewhere in Phnom Penh, nowhere near the Royal Palace and, in fact, near absolutely nothing at all (as far as I could tell). Since he apparently didn’t speak a word of English, I never did work out whether he knew where the Royal Palace was and simply dropped me there for the hell of it, whether he thought he was taking me somewhere else, or whether he had no idea what I was saying in the first place and just took me somewhere random. Traveling is kind of like that in Cambodia.

So anywhere, there I was on some completely unrecognizable street in Phnom Penh, with absolutely no idea where I was, thinking vaguely that I should have have brought my map. Fortunately, the *second* motorcycle I flagged down turned out to be driven by a much better driver, who not only charged me only half the first rate (2000 riel–50 cents), but actually took me to my destination (!). Cambodia is like that, too.

At the Royal Palace, the palace gates were closed and locked–since King Sikanoukh returned from exile the Palace has been off-limits to visitors. Well, I knew that, but I also wanted to find the Silver Pagoda, so I started walking around the Royal Palace grounds. Unfortunately the little episode with the random delivery motorcycle had cost me a good bit of time, so the sun was setting…I stumbled across the National Museum, realized I wasn’t going to see the Silver Pagoda before sunset, and (in my ongoing quest to try every form of transportation ever invented) flagged down a cyclo.

What is a cyclo?, you ask? As far as I know, it’s a uniquely Cambodian invention, and is (if you think about it) rather grisly. Cambodia, as you know, has an oversupply of land mines. As a result, it also has a large oversupply of amputees (about 1 in 250 Cambodians has lost a limb to landmines), and because the amputees do eventually get fitted with replacement limbs and crutches, it also has a large oversupply of wheelchairs. So what does one do with the excess wheelchairs? Well, if it’s Cambodia, you cut the front end off a bike, weld the wheelchair to the bike, and presto! you have a cyclo. The rider sits in the wheelchair up front, the cyclo driver mounts the bike in back, and off you go, through the traffic.

(I should say that these are not the small wheelchairs you see in the U.S. These are high-backed wheelchairs. The upholstery is plastic and generally quite ratty, although many of them cover the cushions in fabric to make them look a trifle better.)

I should pause here to mention that I did finally learn the trick of crossing a street in Asia. Douglas Adams mentions (in his wonderful book _Last Chance to See_) that streets in China are remarkable–full of drivers passing through intersections with no apparent awareness of traffic laws–or, it would seem, the laws of physics.

“Just as you’d swear they were going to hit one another, the cars seem to pass through each other like beams of light, missing each other by no more than six inches” he wrote. And in fact crossing the street is just like that.

You don’t wait for a break in traffic, because there won’t be one. Instead, you wait for a slight break, not enough to cross the street but enough for drivers in the first lane of traffic to see (and presumably avoid) you as you step into the street. Now you’re in the middle of the first lane, with cars and motorcycles whizzing by on either side. You inch slowly further into the road, always making sure that you’re far enough from nearby traffic for drivers to react before hitting you.

But, they won’t *always* swerve for you–that’s the hard part. You have to look into the eyes of oncoming drivers and judge whether you or they will give way. If you judge wrong, you get to leap backwards at the last moment, which can be problematic since another car is probably swerving to fill the gap you left in traffic. All this makes it a rather nervewracking process for the hapless Westerner, who’s used to more orderly things like crosswalks and stoplights. I still have to suppress the conviction that I’m about to die.

(Phnom Penh *does* actually have street-lights, unlike the rest of Cambodia. Some drivers even take notice of them… 😉 )

Anyway, that’s crossing the street in Cambodia. Traffic in Cambodia works quite similarly. Nominally, traffic runs on the right-hand side of the road. But, since crossing traffic is complicated on foot and nearly impossible otherwise (no traffic lights), the Cambodians have discovered a “better” way of making a left turn.

One starts out driving on the left-hand side of the road (against traffic, but on the shoulder). Then,upon spotting a small gap, one starts driving head-on into traffic, but angled slightly, so that eventually one pops out on the other side of the lane and can join traffic in the right direction. If you imagine a fish swimming head-on into a school of other fish, at a slight angle, and emerging on the other side, you’ll get a good idea of how this maneuver works.

However, this is not the sea and these are not fish: this is a motorcycle headed straight against traffic, with you behind the driver staring at three lanes of oncoming traffic and wishing you had a deity to say your prayers to. Imagine driving the wrong way down the 101 at rush hour in a motorcycle, trying to get to the other side, and you get a rough idea.

Amazingly enough, none of these people hit you.

Okay, that’s the experience on a motorcycle. That’s easy. Now, repeat it in a cyclo: you up front in a wheelchair (sitting there peacefully reclined, with an absolutely wide-open view of four lanes of impending doom) with an overgrown bicycle behind you, pedaling nonchalantly against traffic. It’s a whole new vision into terror, especially if your cyclo driver is nonchalantly running a red light at the same time. As I said, there may be traffic laws in Cambodia, but if so, I haven’t discovered them.

The amazing part about this is that the entire time we were nearly being crushed, almost hit, sliding narrowly through oncoming traffic, etc. my cyclo driver was chattering happily along, telling me about all the wonderful sights in Phnom Penh and trying to convince me to hire him tomorrow for extortionate amounts of money. He seemed blissfully aware of our imminently impending doom.

(Okay…after about three days on AIDS Lifecycle I was kind of like that too…but at least *I* didn’t have passengers!)

Nonetheless, I have to admit I was grinning like a maniac for most of the cyclo ride. It’s fun! You get to see traffic from out front! instead of behind the wheel, driver, hood, etc. of an automobile. Sort of like sitting in the middle of the street, watching the traffic pass by, except that you’re moving, too!

Cyclos are way cool. If you ever go to Cambodia, I suggest you try one, at least once. (Skip it if you’ve got a heart condition.) After one cyclo ride, though, roller coasters will be blasé for the rest of your life.

Anyway, that was my exciting day today. Tomorrow I’m going to do a lightning tour, including the Royal Palace, Silver Pagoda, and National Museum in the morning, Tuol Sleng in the afternoon, the shooting range at night (?), and then take a plane to Saigon sometime Monday. At least, that’s the plan. I have no idea what will actually happen…this is, after all, Cambodia. 😉

First, happy Yule to everyone, and I hope you enjoyed Solstice! …if you celebrate it, that is. (Happy Christmas, Hannukah, and other winter solstitial holidays if you don’t.)

That said…you folks have absolutely NO idea how lucky you have it. I’m not just talking about your miraculous access to hot water 😉 , but T-1 Internet access…! The stuff dreams are made of. You have not lived until you’ve tried uploading 12 MB of Web photos from an Internet cafe where all the terminals share a single wireless modem line. And then the information has to squeeze through Cambodia’s lone 56K modem line to the outside world…

…okay, I’m exaggerating. A tiny bit. But not much. I think Cambodia might have one T-1 for the entire country. it’s certainly true that 2-3 times a day, Internet access slows to an unusable crawl across the entire city, and all the Internet cafes shut down. presumably this happens whenever a Liberate engineer checks in his/her code…is that like a kid saying “I don’t believe in fairies”?? (one more packet winks slowly out…)

However, I have braved all these slow-connection horrors, staggered through the Phnom Penh streets relentlessly pursued by amputee beggars and roving gangs of motorcycle taxi drivers, and more prosaically popped through four or five Internet cafes until I found one that is equipped to handle laptops *and* has a fast enough connection to upload my Angkor Wat photos. (I am tempted to ask them if they have Robitussin cold medication, DHL service, and a couple of cute geeks (available for short or long-term rental 😉 ) on tap as well, but I suppose that would be pushing my luck.) So, the photos are now up on my Website–go check them out. http://www.travelingtiger.com/index%20pages/travels.htm (note: I have reorganized the structure a bit, bookmarks may need to be redone)

Not much to report the last two days–I have been down with a very nasty cold which has not been helped by the awful air pollution in Phnom Penh. So I have spent the last two days pretty much dead to the world, only shuttling between the essentials of life–sleep, Web development, and email. oh yeah, and hot showers. (Actually I have worked out how to get a hot BATH…! Luxury! Okay, it takes forty-five minutes to get enough hot water to fill the tub, but the result is blessedly hot, not lukewarm. I would probably sell my soul for a real live hot water heater, if I could fit it into my pack. 😉 )

At any rate, I’m showing vague signs of life this morning, but if I’m incoherent in this email, forgive me–I’m on the uptick, but nowhere near normal yet. I’ll probably spend most of today holed up in the hotel, although I may take a field trip in search of more cold medication and a DHL shipper. (Cambodia has a small problem with medicine: the Khmer Rouge killed off all the doctors. So while they do have medicine, knowledge of how to apply it is somewhat scantier. Fortunately, this is not rocket science; I have two tabs of Robitussin to wave in front of pharmacists until I find one who has it, or something approximating it.)

Sights to be seen in Phnom Penh: the Silver Pagoda, whose floor consists of 1-kilogram plates of solid silver (a wonder the Khmer Rouge didn’t loot it!), the Royal Palace, and the Tuol Sleng Holocaust Museum. I’m also hoping to shoot off an AK47…I think that should be great fun, although undoubtedly less exciting than it sounds. (I saw someone else’s photos and they were, um, uninspired.) once I manage all of those, I’m flying out again, this time to Saigon. 2-3 days, most likely.

Btw, I did manage to get rid of the amputee beggars and taxidrivers–the key, once again, is hair: having taken my hair out of the Japanese-lady bun, and put it in a ponytail, i’m suddenly Cambodian. So all the taxis, beggars, etc. ignore me now, and the market women all speak Cambodian to me. Go figure. (When I get back, I’m going to write a book about traveling and title it “Hair and There”.)

I also figured out that I wasn’t being snubbed because I was female, but because I was a whore–yeah, I missed that career change, too. 😉 i keep forgetting how prevalent prostitution and “bag the wealthy Westerner” gold-digging is in Asia–to the point where an Asian woman accompanying a Caucasian man is automatically assumed to be a hired prostitute. It doesn’t matter that you’re speaking fluent American English or waving a U.S. passport–interracial relationships are only about one thing, and that’s money. So as long as I’m around just one Caucasian guy I’m presumed to be traveling with him as his golddigger girlfriend/prostitute–if I’m with a gaggle of other tourists, though, I become a human again. *sigh* People are idiots. (Well, actually, they’re not. They just learn from experience. That’s the problem.)

It’s quite interesting seeing how this assumption works, though. For example, I arrived at the Asia Hotel with Frank and the German couple. I checked in: no problem. Frank checked in: very confused hotel clerk turns to me and says, “Wait, you want your OWN room??” Umm, well, yes. The amazing part is that they knew him from five days previously, when he was traveling through Phnom Penh by himself, so they must have assumed he’d picked me up in the interim; just what kind of girl do they think I am?

Oh. Yeah. Thanks…I think. And all this *after* handing over a U.S. passport. *sigh*

At any rate, having pleasantly straightened that little bit out, I’ve recovered at least six-tenths of my temper. As far as I can tell, moto taxi drivers will pursue anything that moves, but are considerably more aggressive towards Westerners, and even more aggressive towards solo Asian female tourists–probably because Asian women just don’t travel on their own (unlike Western women who are–sometimes–honorary men). Thus, the chivalrous male desire to rescue/escort the poor helpless little lady mixes with the mercenary desire to make a fast buck and the annoying male urge to hassle pretty girls to produce the Moto Driver From Hell. So basically, if I’m identifiable as a solo tourist, I’m in for it. Fortunately, I can actually pass as Cambodian, at least close enough to fly under radar. This is all very complicated and I can’t help thinking life as a Pasty White Person would be much simpler–then this whole nationality/culture thing would coincide neatly in everyone’s eyes and we could all be straightforward about our respective roles. Nonetheless, it’s occasionally convenient, being able to blend into the scenery.

Anyway, that’s it for the moment…having finished uploading my website, downloading my email, etc., I’m going to stagger off in search of food, and then go back to sleep.

Tien

P.S. If you see broken links, etc. please tell me–I put most of the Angkor section together during my brief moments of lucidity, so I make no guarantees about the quality.

I have finished up five days in Siem Reap, touring the ruins of Angkor (which are amazingly impressive if also amazingly overrun by tourists), plus a side trip to Les Artisans d’Angkor’s silk farm, where I got a good look at Cambodian weaving and looms. This morning I took a boat from Siem reap, and just arrived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s capital. I’ve moderately adjusted to the temperature, which is to say that while it’s still insanely hot and humid, I’m at least no longer worrying about heatstroke. I’ve discovered that a vicious glare translates perfectly into every human language, and worked out most of the details for getting waiters to acknowledge my existence and get rid of amputee beggars. So all in all, I”m doing pretty well.

Today, and probably tomorrow, I’m going to be resting up and getting my website organized (whether I’ll be able to upload it is another matter), acclimating to Phnom Penh, and trying to fight off whatever virus/bacteria thingie has hold of my system. (I’m actually not sure it’s an illness; it could just be throat irritation from the amazingly poor air quality in Siem Reap. Someone is almost always burning *something* there; it makes Los Angeles look like the epitome of air quality, even at its smoggiest.)

After that, I’ll be out to explore, probably spending a day or two at the royal palace and museum, and then their holocaust museum (I can never remember the name–Tuol Sleng?), before moving on to Vietnam.

More details later; I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days, so I’m going back up to my hotel room to nap, lie around, rest, etc. for the rest of the day.

I should say that Cambodia isn’t as bad as I initially thought; it just operates by an entirely different set of rules. Once you work them out, it’s not too bad–though if you’re not prepared to cope with, say, a six-year-old child beggar with one leg blown off by landmines, or an eight-year-old boy with his face rotting away, you may want to skip it. (Beggars hang out around the ruins because that’s where all the wealthy tourists are.) Nonetheless, the ruins of angkor are just amazing. It’s been exhausting and a fairly major ordeal, but I’m glad I came here. Considering what they’ve been through, too, the people are amazingly friendly.

Anyway, I’m going back up to my room, where I’m living in air-conditioned luxury (hot shower and a BATHTUB, can you believe that?!?); after a nap, I’ll see if I can get my photos organized. I took over 500 photos in the ruins, and almost all of them are fantastic.

Tien